


Hide and Seek: A Johnlock Fanfiction

by Park_chim



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hide and Seek, Multi, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Park_chim/pseuds/Park_chim
Summary: After solving one of the most arduous cases ever placed before them, Dr John Watson and Mr Sherlock Holmes are invited to a party celebrating the achievement hosted by Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's brother. Upon arriving at the grand and luxurious mansion, filled with a complex set of rooms and corridors, an opportunity befalls John, one which he could not resist:"Want to play hide and seek, Sherlock?"





	1. Let's Play Hide and Seek

The sight that laid before John and Sherlock was breathtaking; the magnificence of the stately home radiated outwards emitting a fancy and ostentatious atmosphere. John felt awfully scruffy when stood in front of this historical building. Quickly, he glanced down at his attire: a year old suit that he dug up from the bottom of his wardrobe, which was scuffed at the hems and a ominous red stain was splashed across the tie. It was all John could offer for the evening since it was short notice, it wasn't even possible for him to go out and buy a fresh suit. Next to him, Sherlock stood in his usual dress; a black suit complemented with his trademark big, swishing coat. John was envious as his flatmate could pull off anything and get away with it. He looked dashing in everything.

A gravel path led towards the mansion ending at intricate iron gates and behind them a fountain sprinkled cyan water into marbled repository. The water was illuminated by spotlights which alternated in changing colours; red,blue,pink,purple. This fountain was placed in the centre of a roundabout where all kinds of luxurious cars were parked; Ferrari's, Mercedes, Bentley's etc. Lining the perimeters of the roundabout were beautiful flowers; roses, lilies, orchids and countless more. But the manor was evidently the main star of the show: a pair of lanterns were on either side of the decorated, off white doors clearly indicating the way for the guests to enter. These lanterns were also accompanied by pure white pillars. Above the entryway were thousands of windows looking into unknown rooms, John even noticed a couple of balconies. Who knew what was hiding behind these lavish walls. 

The doctor and the consulting detective strolled casually towards the metal gates, pressing a button to allow them admittance into the party. A scratchy monotone voice sounded from the speaker:

"Please state your name"

Sherlock sighed in boredom.

"Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson", he declared.

The pair of them could hear excited chattering resonating from the speaker, some sort of struggle to gain access the microphone.

A different voice spoke to them in an enthusiastic manner through the microphone:

"Fabulous crime-solving Sherlock. It's a pleasure to have you here. Come in right away!", the female giggled.

The iron gates fluttered open, revealing the manor house in its true splendour. Before John could marvel any longer at the abode, Sherlock had already skipped to the entrance. John had to run to catch him up. A security guard questioned the two on their identity before they could actually go to the party. When the guard registered that the two of them were the infamous crime solvers, he gave them a salute. Sherlock gave the guard a weird look. 

As soon as they stepped onto the premises of the grand entrance, the two were bombarded with people interviewing their technique for solving, servants and butlers asking if they needed anything and general staring at them. They tried to pander to everyone's needs. Before anyone could bother them any longer, Sherlock pulled John behind one of the curved staircases embellished with red velvet carpet. The two had a small conversation:

"That girl on the speaker was eager to speak to you, huh?", John chuckled.

Sherlock smiled.

"The girl is young, most likely eighteen. She is obsessed with me, often re-reading your blog and stalking us on the internet. This is her first job and she still lives at home.

John looked at his flatmate with wide eyes.

"You know, Sherlock, you never seem to stop surprising me. How do you do it?", he laughed.

Sherlock responded with sympathy.

"Just listen to her voice, John. And didn't you recognise the quarrel before she talked to us. Clearly, the person before knew she was a big fan of me and then she fought to talk to me. Rookie error, John."

The two of them stood in silence for a few minutes, taking in the grandeur of the place.

"We're definitely at a party for the queen.", John chortled.

Sherlock looked behind John to see his brother Mycroft waiting at the entrance for someone.

"I can certainly see the queen", Sherlock beamed.

John peered behind his best friend to see the expensive suit that Mycroft was dressed in and giggled. 

"I'd rather not have to speak with the queen tonight. He won't ever stop talking about how I finally came to his one of his 'get-together's'. Ugh!", Sherlock angrily exhaled.

Watson's eyes lit up with an idea, grinning mischievously at his best friend. He gestured around the lobby, attempting to get Sherlock to guess his genius scheme. Sherlock stared at John, puzzled. Then his mouth was agape as he perceived what his friend was planning.

"John, no. We're grown adults, not immature children", he asserted

John feigned innocence.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say", he repressed a laugh.

Sherlock gave him a stern look.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun. Can you just let loose once in a while. Plus we'll avoid the queen by playing it.", John battered his eyelashes and gave him the puppy eyes.

Sherlock sighed in contempt but John knew he had won him over. 

"Fine, but if we're caught, you do know we'll look stupid. You hide first, but wait a second until everyone is invited into the ball room and then we'll go. I'd rather  not have people seeing us excitedly running about the place. Just promise that we avoid Mycroft.", Sherlock compromised.

The two shook hands.

"Promise"

"The game is on, John!"


	2. The Game Is On

Hundreds of guests poured into the main hall, whilst a detective and his blogger hid underneath one of the two grand staircases. The two flatmates observed the agitated expression on Mycroft's face as he glared impatiently at his watch; he waited a few more seconds before storming into the ballroom. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were in hysterics, endeavoring to repress their laughter. Sherlock gave John a quick glance to indicate that the game had started. 

Dr Watson sprinted into the depths of the manor house whilst Sherlock covered his eyes and counted to ten. 

"Ten, nine, eight..."

The adrenaline pumped through John's veins as he raced down endless elaborate corridors trying to find the perfect hiding spot. He discovered guest rooms and en suite bathrooms, countless miniature gallery's and rooms of which he couldn't identify; rooms full to the brim with musical instruments, another with expensive ball gowns hung up. As he turned around the corner, he was drawn to a particular door; it seemingly came closer to him. Without a second thought, he charged through the door, it appeared that he had found one of the many master bedrooms. The glorious bedroom contained a king sized bed adorned with a plush white duvet and rose petals. After five minutes of gawking at the bedroom, he realised that he wouldn't have long before Sherlock came looking... He surveyed the room for hiding places. Hmm. Under the bed was too obvious. In the closet would be too stuffy. A light flashed inside his mind. He jogged towards the balcony doors and pushed them open.

'He'll never find me here!", John mischievously grinned as the wind blew through his hair.

Meanwhile...

Sherlock had long ago finished counting but was going over the most likely hiding places that John would hide in... He knew John was an army doctor, he'd never go for the typical places like under the bed, or in the wardrobe, or behind the door. Aha! He'd be hiding in plain sight. Quickly, he checked the perimeters of the hall before sprinting out of the exit into the icy night. 

John's heart raced as he waited for Sherlock to find him. Surely, this was a good hiding place. A normal person wouldn't find him here. But then again, Sherlock wasn't normal. It wasn't fair that Sherlock would be able to deduce the most likely place he'd hide. As he stared into the night, leaning on the cold stone of the balcony, he saw a figure in a sweeping coat gracefully dashing out of the entrance. John's eyes adjusted to the bright glare of the lamp lights to see Sherlock checking each balcony one by one. Darn it! John ducked down even though he knew it would be pointless since there were gaps but why not try? He curled up into a ball, attempting to stay as still as possible.

After a few minutes of scanning the building's balconies, Sherlock noticed a dark figure out of place from the stone and marble background of the stately home. Using his biggest voice, he alerted John that he had caught him:

"JOHN! FOUND YOU", he shouted in his deep silky voice.

There was no reply from the obvious figure against the balcony railings, John thought that if he ignored Sherlock's voice and stayed completely still that Sherlock might get confused and look elsewhere. Probably not, but one can hope. 

"John, stop being annoying! I can see you!", Sherlock yelled, his voice cracking. 

John chuckled as he gave his response.

"No you can't!"

Sherlock stood in a baffled silence.

Surrendering, John stood up and brushed the dirt of his jeans then put his hands in the air. Sherlock laughed at his friend's childish behaviour.

"OK John, it's my turn to hide. Close your eyes and cover them!", Sherlock called out.

As Sherlock ran back inside, his eyes were on John, ensuring that he wasn't cheating. When he thought Sherlock wasn't looking, he peeked only to discover Sherlock's steely gaze on him...

"John stop cheating!", his furious flatmate bellowed.

"I wasn't-", John yelled back as he was interrupted by Sherlock telling him to stop.

The consulting detective ran back into the mansion whilst John finally closed his eyes. It hadn't been five minutes since he had left John that he had found the ideal hiding place; a door that would go unnoticed to the unobservant. Before anyone could see, he darted through the door, hastily shutting it behind him. He grinned smugly to himself as he sat down, leaning against the cold wood door. in front of the dishes, plates and wine glasses all laid out ready for the evening. 

Ten minutes had passed...

Twenty minutes passed

And thirty minutes passed when Sherlock fell to the ground as the door was opened by a waiter with a horrified expression on his face.

John had resorted to lying down on the shiny marble floor on the third level, out of breath, in order to regain his energy. It was no joke that he had searched in every crook and cranny of the mansion in order to find his smart-ass flatmate. He looked in the kitchens, the gardens, and pretty much behind every door on most floors. But Sherlock was nowhere to be found. John was close to falling asleep when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

The waiter regained control of himself and maintained a professional stance; asking Sherlock his name and explanation of why he was in a cupboard. The irritated servant waited impatiently for Sherlock's answer as the detective was in hysterics, laughing at the pure fact that a waiter had found the well renowned brother of Mycroft Holmes hiding in a cupboard. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he tried to calmly answer the servants inquiries. 

"I'm Sherlock. Can you help me? I've seem to have gotten lost! You know this house is just too big, you try and go to the hall but end in a janitor's cupboard. What a pickle I am in! ;.", Sherlock burst into laughter as he responded.

The servant shot Sherlock a dirty look as he professionally replied to the detective.

"I agree with you, Sir. Now let me go get your brother, Mycroft Holmes. I'm certain that he'll you find your way.", he said with a fake smile. 

The waiter left Sherlock behind to go fetch his brother.

"I'm sure he will", Sherlock muttered under hid breath.

Before Mycroft would be able to find him, he speedily raced up the marble stairs, jumping two steps at a time so he could escape the wrath of his brother. Sherlock wasn't sure of where he was going and he wasn't really taking much notice of his surroundings. Ten minutes later, it appeared that he had run up two flights of stairs and down millions of hallways when he vigorously crashed into someone, consequently leaving them sprawled on the hard floor. That someone was John. Sherlock jumped up, helping John to his feet, and pulling him into the closest room. Without any explanation, Sherlock dragged the two of them into a walk-in closet.

In the meantime, Mycroft was pacing up and down , impatiently, outside of the ballroom. He was agitated with the two flatmates. Why couldn't they behave for just one night, especially on one as crucial as this. One of his servants had just informed him that they had found his brother hiding in a cupboard with John nowhere to be seen, but when he returned to the cupboard, Sherlock had disappeared yet again. His anger levels were rising...

"If they are Mr Hide, I shall be Mr Seek.", he thought vengefully.

Mycroft sent a whole search party on the lookout for the Holmes and Watson.

Two hours passed by, with the entirety of it spent trying on the expensive clothes in the closet. The two sat down of having a laughing fit, but just as they lent against the mahogany wood, the two tumbled onto the floor, looking into the eyes of an angry Mycroft and his men. Before anyone could react, the pair of them ran off, down the corridors as fast as they could before Mycroft would kill them. The last thing heard was the sound of footsteps and laughter as they galloped through the maze of corridors and out of the exit into the wild and cold night...

"Catch you later!", Sherlock squealed at his brother as they left the stately home.

 

"No you won't!!, John giggled in response.


End file.
